


Stay

by AnAngryRat



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gotham, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAngryRat/pseuds/AnAngryRat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark might have died. Bruce might have over reacted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

A strangled blood choked gasp was the first slap of consciousness Superman got. The sky was blue when last he remembered it was black and he was healing...barely. He sat up with great difficulty and took stock of his surroundings. Green lantern was being held in hawk girls arms the rest of the league was standing around staring at a scene. 

Superman pulled himself slowly to his feet and stumbled up towards the group, his ears finally registering the vicious snap of leather against flesh. He pushed past them and had to pause his knees going together but thankfully still holding him up. 

Batman was sitting on top of the kryptonite battle suit that Luthor sat in a bloody rag of himself. There was a violent snarl on Batman’s face every time his fist connected it tightened a bit more and was almost highlighted by the blood splatters across his cheeks. Superman stepped forward.

"Batman?"

He didn't stop. The ugly sound of blood soaked skin meeting his fist continued.

Superman swallowed the blood climbing his trachea and called out again.

"Batman."

There was a pause his arm hovering midair. Clark fought through the pain and forced himself closer so he could place a hand on Batman’s shoulder. 

"Batman," he said softly. 

The other man turned slowly and his grin faded to his impenetrable mask of calm. His eyes remaining unseen behind the white screens. He stood up abruptly and Clark stumbled a couple of steps back as did the rest of the league.

Batman didn't say a word as he shot a grappling hook into the sky and was tugged away from the scene leaving the rest of the crew wallowing in the aftermath.

Diana clapped her hands gaining everyone's attention and started giving orders. She turned to Superman last. 

"Go home. You've had a rough day, friend." She said gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He spat and stood straighter rolling his shoulders as the pain slowly faded.

"I'm fine." 

Diana pulled closer to him.

"Please, Clark you gave us quite a scare back there. Batman had declared you dead moments before he disabled the shield covering the sky."

Clark swallowed. Looking away he nodded then shot off into the air almost falling right back out again when a sudden stinging pain shot through his lungs and thorax. Fuck... He choked slowing down. It fell upon him like a great weight. He might have died. Bruce had been reacting to his possible death. 

Clark landed with a long stumble on his balcony. He wobbled through the open window quickly stripped before putting on a pair of boxer briefs and splaying out in the sun regaining energy, mind spinning with thoughts.  
  
  


Bruce didn't show up to any of the JLA meetings for over a month.  The group wasn't handling half the leadership’s absence well--hell Clark wasn't handling it well. He broke and finally flew to Gotham when the League nearly lost to one measly space robot.  Bruce was crouched silently on the ledge of Wayne enterprises his head tilted slightly, listening. 

"What are you doing here?" He growled. It was unusual for him to ask. Most of the time it was ‘Get the fuck out of my territory, Boy Scout.’

“You haven’t been to the JLA recently.”

“It’s been a shit couple of months and I couldn’t make it,” Bruce said. His back tensed for a fraction of a second before he stood up. Superman listened for either Tim or Dick’s voice but got nothing but motor cycle noises and bickering between the two. In fact Gotham was unusually quiet. There were more policemen and very little happening because of that. Bruce crouched getting ready to leap but Clark stopped him.

“Nothing major is happening Tim and Dick can cover whatever’s left. Talk to me Bruce.”

Bruce’s nostrils flared and he sucked in a long breath before letting it out slowly. He walked away and jumped down from the building at a sedate pace rather than running off. Clark followed him all the way back to the Batcave.

“I didn’t invite you in,” Bruce said taking off his suit mechanically. Clark rolled his eyes and touched down.

“You left the door open that’s invitation enough for me.” Silence descended, the only sounds were Batman’s suit hitting the ground piece by piece echoing along the walls. Clark coughed awkwardly. “The league really needs you.”

“The league was so scared of me they sent the nearly indestructible man to talk me back.” Bruce growled. He looked up at Clark his ice blue eyes attacking with a piercing glare.

“No.” Clark stepped closer feeling nervous. Bruce usually wasn’t so…expressive. Sarcastic and dry. Yes. Expressing anger and authority. Completely normal. Bitterness and hurt. Not so much. “They sent me because you usually talk to me.”

Bruce rolled his eyes this time and ripped off the last pieces of his suit and started stripping out of the super-cloth that sat under the various scraps and constructions of Kevlar. Clark swallowed as pale skin began to show slowly with the descent of the zipper.

“Well I spoke. It was a shit couple of months. I couldn’t make it. I’ll go the next one,” Bruce said completely naked now. Clark felt himself flush embarrassingly looking away. The man had an amazing cock.

Bruce strutted up. Clark had to force himself not to back up when he felt Bruce’s chest brush his. Large calloused hands tangled themselves in his hair and tugged him into a rough biting kiss. He was so startled he barely even kissed back then he was so enthralled in the taste of _Bruce_ that he couldn’t stop. Not even when he felt sly hands undo the back of his suit and drag it down over his shoulders. He gasped when he felt Bruce bite his way down the as he slowly revealed skin.

Between bites Bruce spoke so softly that he wouldn’t have heard him with super hearing, “You scare the shit out of me.” Clark moaned at the bite that followed and dragged Bruce in for another bruising kiss. He allowed the other man to push him roughly towards the showers barely even missing a step when his pants were tugged off. Clark moaned once he was shoved against the clean tiles, hands shoved over his head.

“Stay,” Bruce grunted. The shower came on stray water droplets falling along his back. He waited patiently not turning his head from where it had been placed facing the back of the shower. A cap popped open and there wasn’t any warning before a surprisingly cold slick finger pressed into him.

“ _Bruce_.” He breathed. Bruce bit his shoulder in response then added another finger much before Clark was ready. Clark took in a sharp intake of breath. Bruce’s head was placed on his back as if he was listening to his breathing. His hands wandered over Clark’s nipples before dragging his nails along his abdomen slowly in pace with his finger. It was nearly a shock when Clark felt the rough hand fist his cock and pull in one long stroke. He felt Bruce smile against his back before adding another finger. Clark shuddered and the air became steamed with the heat of the shower. 

It felt like an eternity waiting for Bruce to move beyond the rough strokes and the harsh bites and hickies he placed all over Clark’s back…but when Bruce pushed in with a quick brutal thrust making Clark’s back arch and his hands move. He felt Bruce abandon his cock in order to grip both of them and shove them over head. After that it was a blur of sharp near painful thrust and Bruce’s heavy pants and Clark’s wanton groans. He came so hard he saw stars and clenched around Bruce bringing his own release.

They washed each other silently and Clark felt himself blush at the intimacy of it all. Bruce reverently running a scrub over every part of his body as though he was checking for injuries that didn’t exist and Clark doing the same only to find too many injuries that shouldn’t exist. It felt beyond, what Clark could honestly call, the rigorous fucking before. They toweled off, Bruce putting on one of many pairs of sweats stored in the cave and Clark about to put on his suit and call it a day. Bruce stopped him with a strong grip on his hand and handed him a pair of sweats.

“Stay,” he demanded voice low. Clark slipped on the pants and took his hand and tangled their fingers.

“Okay.”


End file.
